


so this is love

by screechfox



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/F, Hair Dyeing, Post-Sburb/Sgrub
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-21
Updated: 2016-09-21
Packaged: 2018-08-16 13:37:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8104420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/screechfox/pseuds/screechfox
Summary: “Y’know, I recognise that lollipop juju mode was like, objectively terrible and all,” Roxy says, slipping into the chair across from Jane. “But you looked pretty fuckin’ bitchtits with pink hair, Janey.”
 
Roxy decides that Jane needs to dye her hair. Jane also decides this, after some persuasion.





	

**Author's Note:**

> i don't actually know how you dye hair, despite having lived in a house with someone with dyed hair for all my life
> 
> i assume it's magic

“Y’know, I recognise that lollipop juju mode was like, objectively terrible and all,” Roxy says, slipping into the chair across from Jane. “But you looked pretty fuckin’ bitchtits with pink hair, Janey.”

Jane blinks at the unconventional greeting, looking up from her lukewarm coffee. Roxy is stretching backwards, movements easy and uncensored in the way that Jane’s come to expect from her girlfriend.

She takes a moment to consider what Roxy’s said. Absently, she reaches across the table and tangles her fingers with Roxy’s. Roxy beams, because of course she does. She also leans forward and steals Jane’s coffee with her free hand, because _of course she does_.

“Well,” Jane says, after another moment. “I can’t say I _ever_ pay much attention to my reflection, so I’ll just have to trust you!”

Roxy beams again, and this time it’s infectious.

“ _Well_ , guess who happens to have a stockpile of pink hair dye in her house, just waiting to be used?”

Roxy makes a ta-da motion with the hand Jane isn’t holding, before taking a sip of the coffee. She makes a face at the temperature, and raises a brow at Jane, who flushes and pulls the mug back over to her.

“Oh, shush you.” Jane swallows a large mouthful of her drink in defiance, and Roxy’s brow only raises further. Sensing a divergence from the already-shaky topic of conversation, she coughs and moves to re-direct it.

“I’d like to ask about the “stockpile”, but I think I might as well chalk it up as just another quirk of your fantastical upbringing.”

Roxy grins again, and shrugs with one shoulder.

“Janey, I basically spent _all_ of my early teens with pastel pink hair. I had it dip-dyed and all when we met in person that first time. It’d probably got faded though.”

Jane tries to imagine a younger Roxy with a mop of pink hair, with some success. The mental image is kind of adorable. Maybe Roxy has pictures or something.

“ _But_ ,” Roxy continues, before Jane has the chance to ask. “We’re not here to talk about my cute-ass child years. We’re here to discuss the many pluses of giving _you_ pink hair. Cross my heart, we’ve got tonnes of pluses. The scales are practically overflowing with pluses. The pluses outweigh… I don’t know, a really large elephant or something.”

Roxy pauses, then makes a face. “Okay, that might’ve needed some work. I need some freakin’ good tea or something.”

Roxy stands up, and Jane has to resist the urge to keep holding her hand, like a small child or something like that. But she lets go, and settles for watching her girlfriend move around their shared kitchen instead.

Roxy’s not what anyone, certainly not Jane, would call graceful. She’s bold, and she takes up her space so vividly, and her voice is too high to be seductive and too low to be demure.

But there’s an airy kind of carelessness to her, and Jane finds it more entrancing than any ballet could be. Even dressed in yesterday’s rumpled clothing, Roxy just owns herself so fully and completely.

Despite Jane’s upbringing as the heiress of a large company, she still doesn’t think she’s _that_ confident in who she is.

It’s quiet for a moment as Roxy wanders around the kitchen to find this morning’s perfect tea. Once the kettle’s clicked on, though, Jane takes her chance to speak, even if it breaks the soft quiet that had fallen over them.

“So. Give me an example of one of these very weighty pluses, then.” Resting her chin on her hand, Jane finds herself smiling softly.

Roxy turns around and leans against the counter as the water begins to boil in the background. She holds her hand up, one finger raised, and grins.

“You already got _one_. IE. How freaking cool you looked with pink hair even if the rest of that day was kind of all round shitty.” She flips up another finger. “But two, imagine how freaking shocked Mr. English’s perfect face is going to look when he sees.”

Jane doesn’t even bother to question the fact that this whole thing is a foregone conclusion to Roxy. Of course it is. This is Roxy. She’s probably _right_.

“And _three_ ,” Roxy continues, another finger up, “It’d be a chance to demonstrate my wicked hair-dye skills on a fresh canvas.”

Jane raises a brow. “Have you ever _actually_ dyed anyone’s hair but your own?”

There’s a pause, for a moment - the sound of bubbling filling the room for a moment. Then, Roxy speaks.

“Well, no. I _wanted_ to dye Dirk’s hair, but he wasn’t going to cross kilometers of ocean just for hair dye! Besides, c’mon, Janey! Live a little!”

Roxy’s words are teasing, but her gaze is imploring.

Jane twirls a lock of her dark hair around her finger, making a show of thinking about it. Then she smiles at Roxy.

“Well, why not, I suppose! It can’t do any harm.”

Roxy beams, even more than she had been, and turns around to lift the kettle off its stand.

“Fuck yes!” She pours hot water into the mug in front of her, then shifts to look at Jane again as the steam rises into their kitchen. “You are not going to regret trusting your hair to my hands, I 100% promise you.”

Jane rolls her eyes, but she keeps smiling, and raises her now-cold coffee to her lips. Roxy will probably offer her some tea, after all.

They intertwine their hands again as Roxy sits down - mug of fragrant tea held securely in her other hand. They sit in warm silence together, just for a little while.

 

“Shit, we’re going to need bleach.”

“I grow less confident in this idea by the moment.”

“Shut your face, Janey, it’ll be fine.”

 

 

 

In the end, they manage to scrounge up some hair bleach somewhere, even though Jane is pretty sure Roxy is, and always will be, the palest blonde she’s ever seen.

“Maybe Mom foresaw me having a super cute dark haired girlfriend, or something,” Roxy says, as an offhand remark. Jane finds herself blushing, for some reason - especially now that she’s met Rose in person.

Jane just shrugs, and sits patiently as Roxy mixes everything together like some form of witch. Or possibly a chemist, judging by the gloves sat beside her.

The wait is a little nerve-wracking, but Roxy looks like she genuinely knows what she’s doing. It’ll be fine, Jane thinks.

Roxy glances up at her, and she smiles reassuringly.

Besides, she’s living a little.

 

 

 

It may be fine, Jane reflects, a little while later, but it’s certainly _itchy_. Roxy is keeping her company in the bathroom, but the minutes of having to keep the bleach in are certainly stretching on.

As usual, Roxy’s fingers are intertwined with hers. Most of the equipment is tidied away, or sat in the sink waiting to be re-used for dyeing. So nothing’s stopping Roxy from being knelt in front of Jane, leaning in as close as she dares.

“Y’know, I’d kiss you, but then I’d probably get bleach on _my_ hair. Or worse, my skin.” Roxy doesn’t seem too bothered though - her smile is wide, and her bright pink eyes are sparkling.

“What a tragedy,” Jane deadpans, resisting the urge to scratch at her hair. “A few-hour long wait to press our lips together, however will we cope.”

Roxy rolls her eyes. “I _know_ , right?”

She glances at the timer next to her. “Okay, Janey, we’re halfway there. Which is actually like a quarter of the way there, if you think about it, but let’s not.”

 

 

 

“Y’know, I’m pretty sure no one ever _actually_ waited for all of the dye to wash out of their hair. Just dump a towel over your pillow, it’ll be fine.”

Jane stares at the water running pink into the tub, and rolls her eyes.

“The instructions say to wash it all out. And I’d rather not have to _bother_ , with the towel, if it’s all the same to you.”

Roxy shifts next to her - Jane can tell she’s getting antsy. She sighs, listening to the sound of the water running.

“Go on, you can make us some dinner, how about that?” It’ll give Roxy something to do, and it’ll give Jane time to get all of the dye out, and prevent accidentally colouring her pillow pastel pink.

Roxy sighs dramatically, but Jane can tell that she’s not actually angry. More frustrated, as she comes up against the barrier of one of their personality differences.

For a moment, there’s the warm weight of a hand on Jane’s shoulder.

“Yeah, I think we both deserve a good meal after sitting through this ordeal. Come find me when you’re done, okay, Janey?”

Roxy doesn’t wait for an answer before leaving for the kitchen. Jane listens to her walking with a smile.

As Jane continues to wash the remaining dye out of her hair, she can hear Roxy moving around the kitchen. She’s put some music on - some bubbly pop song that Jane’s never heard of - and, by the sounds of her footsteps, is probably dancing to it.

It makes Jane smile, and bolsters her patience, until at last the water runs clear and she stands up. She considers the hair dryer for a moment, before deciding against it, and creeping out to the kitchen instead.

Roxy’s dancing is loose-limbed and careless, until the moment she spots Jane lurking in the doorway and grabs her hand. She pulls her into something that Jane _thinks_ is the Waltz, if they weren’t both such bad dancers.

As Roxy dips Jane low to the floor, laughing deep in her chest, Jane smiles back. She couldn’t be happier if she tried.

 

 

 

(Later that week, once her hair’s dried and she’s finally seen how it looks, Jane sends off a message to Dirk and Jake, on Roxy’s encouragement.

“It’s been ages since it’s been the four of us in one place, c’mon! And neither of them have seen your hair!”

Calliope had, a few days earlier, and had seemed a little gobsmacked. But then her face had drawn into the most delighted smile, and Jane couldn’t help but remember the time spent in the dream bubble together.

But Dirk and Jake were re-learning each other - taking another go of their relationship with far better communication, theoretically.

Jane’s new hair is probably as good a reason as any to interrupt that.

Dirk and Jake both accept readily, in their usual manners. Jake offers to bring some of his favourite DVDs. Jane has to show Roxy the message before she can answer - though it’s an affirmative. If nothing else, they can have a good time together with or without Jake English’s normal taste.

Dirk shows up early. Or, in his opinion, on time - Jake taking the scenic route through the surrounding forests. He cocks an eyebrow at Jane’s hair, but his only other reaction is an approving thumbs up. That’s probably as good as she’s going to get.

They’re busily chatting when there’s finally a knock on the door.

Roxy, as the “distinguished hostess” goes to greet him.

Jane can hear his voice from down the corridor, the odd fusion of accents loud and enthusiastic as ever. And then, as the door to the kitchen opens, it abruptly cuts off, for just a moment.

“Jiminy cricket, Jane, what’s happened to your hair?"

Jane can’t help it. Jake looks so utterly gobsmacked. She bursts out laughing.)

**Author's Note:**

> as usual, you can find me at screechfoxes on tumblr


End file.
